


At The River's Edge

by CatatonicEmotions



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Kid Hannibal, Kid Will - Freeform, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Water Spirit Will, Wendigo Hannibal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9149710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatatonicEmotions/pseuds/CatatonicEmotions
Summary: 'The boy tilted his head slightly as he stared at Hannibal. The young Wendigo could see the curiosity in the crystal clear blue eyes of the young spirit, and even with the face of a cherub, Hannibal knew this creature held a great deal of power. Hannibal began to tense his muscles in case he needed to lash out as the young spirit rose from the water and walked towards him.'After a young wendigo named Hannibal is injured, he meets a young water spirit by the name of Will. Thus begins their eternity.





	1. In The Beginning...

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was listening to some random nature music while studying for finals and this idea popped into my head. I was hoping to have the first chapter posted by Christmas, but I was so busy I never got around to it. However, I figured that I'd start my new year off by posting it today.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

For a creature that could live for eternity, Hannibal took great pride in the fact that at the infantile age of only one hundred and twelve his hunting skills had surpassed that of his father's. So it was quite a humbling experience that after three hours of playing tag with his sister, Mischa had remained stubbornly elusive. Hannibal let out a sigh as he sat underneath a snow covered tree to rest. He knew Mischa would never stray too far from him and would have mercy on him for at least a moment so he could catch his breath.

After a few moments passed with nothing more than the winter wind rustling dead trees, Hannibal heard it. A quick snap of wood and the scuffle of hooves against snow about thirty yards away. Hannibal's maw shifted into a wide grin that showed his pointed teeth as he positioned himself on all fours and began to scurry towards the unmistakable sound of his sister. He followed the scuffles of Mischa's hooves until he found himself in front of a large snowbank bracketed by trees.

He gave a small huff of laughter as his sister's harsh breaths emitted from behind the snowy structure. It was imperative that a Wendigo learn to mask their breathing with the environment around them, unless they wanted to alert prey to their presence, but Mischa was still in the early stages of learning to hunt and her mistake was Hannibal's gain. Hannibal began to quietly ascend the structure with practiced skill, sinking his talons into the soft snow for purchase as he silently crawled his way to the top. Once there, Hannibal peeked around the edge and saw Mischa looking frantically around. Her small skeletal frame seemed to practically vibrate with excitement and her maw was stretched just as wide as Hannibal's with her own grin. Hannibal could tell Mischa was planning something, but he knew he already had the advantage. His sister was looking everywhere but up as he continued to crawl his way over the side of the snowbank, moving slowly as not to give his position away. He waited until Mischa's breathing returned to normal, until her muscles began to relax. And then he pounced.

With a hard thud, Hannibal connected with the snowy ground as Mischa's laughter filled the air.

"You can do better, brother!" She taunted as she disappeared around a bend leading to the largest river in the forest.

Hannibal rose to all fours, shaking the snow from his small antlers only to have it land on his face. With an indignant huff Hannibal began to run after his sister once more. As he rounded the bend, Hannibal slowed down to listen for any sign of Mischa. While Wendigos were masters at hunting they were also masters at luring prey into a false sense of security, and even though Hannibal's ego was slightly bruised, he couldn't help but be proud of his sister. Nevertheless, there was a chase still going on and he refused to lose. Hannibal crept along the river's edge, momentarily distracted by the stark contrast of his pitch black skin against the pure white snow, until he heard another snap of wood right behind him. He spun around and saw Mischa, who had begun to creep up behind her brother, but the moment their eyes met she began to scurry her way across the frozen river to the other edge, laughing as Hannibal followed right behind her.

Hannibal chased her down the edge of the river, quickly avoiding rocks and fallen branches. He almost lost her twice as they raced down the edge of the river, but the excitement and adrenaline of the chase made him run faster to keep her black form in his sights. He was mere feet away from his sister, preparing to reach out and tackle her to the ground.

Then he felt as if fire was licking it's way up his left rear leg and he crumpled face first into snow.

Hannibal couldn't help the scream that ripped it's way out of his maw as he tried to sit up and see what had hurt him. Through the sheen of tears in his eyes, he could see the iron teeth of a leg trap digging it's way into his short pastern, his hoof locked in the middle of the trap. Hannibal took a deep breath to calm himself. He knew that if he were any other animal, his leg would be broken, but a Wendigo's bones could withstand anything.

Hannibal heard the panic in Mischa's voice as she crawled her way back to him, "Brother, what's wrong?"

"Mischa.. Leave! Go back to mother!" Hannibal said as he contorted his body to try to hide his injury. Even though his leg wasn't broken, his thin skin had torn easily and his blood was turning the surrounding snow crimson.

"But Hannibal, are you hu-"

"Just leave!" Hannibal shouted. He would later regret the hurt look that crossed Mischa's face as she scampered away, but this was a human mechanism he was caught in, and where there were traps, there were humans. He would sooner break his own leg than have his sister captured by one of them.

Hannibal took another deep breath as he looked around for something to help him pry the trap open, knowing that if he tried it with his hands he would only cut the thin skin and cause a bigger mess. He finally spotted a thick tree branch a few feet away, but he couldn't reach it from where he had fallen. Hannibal gathered his strength and began to crawl his way towards the branch, grunting at the weight the heavy iron trap put on his skeletal frame.

Just as he started to reach for the branch, Hannibal heard a loud crack. Several pops followed and then a cold shower of ice exploded from the river and rained down on Hannibal. Hannibal growled as he wiped the quickly melting ice off of his head only to stop as a voice rang out, "How badly are you hurt?"

Hannibal looked out at the riverbank, but didn't see who the voice could belong to. That's when a movement in the river caught his eye.

A small boy, who looked to be a little younger than Hannibal, sat cross-legged on top of the water that was exposed after the ice broke. For someone who had just come out of a river, the boy was surprisingly dry. His hair, which was a rich shade of chocolate brown and hung in soft curls right above his shoulders , as well as his turquoise blue tunic seemed to be devoid of water.

' _A water spirit, then_.' Thought Hannibal.

His mother had told him stories of the water spirits, of how they were very kind to almost anything as long as they weren't threatened. Even so, with Hannibal in such a vulnerable state, he wanted to play it safe. If this spirit attacked him, he may not be able to defend himself. Hannibal decided on using the friendly approach.

"It's just a flesh wound. May I ask a favor of you and hand me that branch?" Hannibal inquired sweetly as he pointed behind himself to the branch.

The boy tilted his head slightly as he stared at Hannibal. The young Wendigo could see the curiosity in the crystal clear blue eyes of the young spirit, and even with the face of a cherub, Hannibal knew this creature held a great deal of power. Hannibal began to tense his muscles in case he needed to lash out as the young spirit rose from the water and walked towards him.

Hannibal sighed in relief as the young spirit walked past him to grab the branch, that was almost as big as the spirit himself, and brought it back to Hannibal.

Hannibal graciously took the branch from the young spirit and began to pry the trap open. The wood started to splinter just as Hannibal slipped his hoof from the iron hold, and was broken when the trap fully closed on it. Hannibal gave a victorious shout and moved to stand up straight, only to crumple back down on all fours. Hannibal felt a tentative hand on his bony shoulder.

"Please, let me help." The young spirit insisted as Hannibal tried unsuccessfully to stand up again.

Hannibal stared at the spirit's hand, his pale skin almost rendered completely translucent next to Hannibal's obsidian color. Hannibal was wary of the spirit, his father had taught him at a young age to always be on guard, but Hannibal knew when he was at his limit and there was no way he'd make it all the way home up the mountain with his sore pastern.

"Very well," Hannibal conceded.

The spirit helped Hannibal limp on all fours to the very edge of the river before gently pressing him down into the snow. The spirit maneuvered Hannibal's injured hoof until it hovered right above the water that was quickly freezing back over in the harsh winter breeze.

"I thought water spirits hibernated during the winter?" Hannibal asked, keeping his muscles tense in case he had to make a quick escape.

"We do. I was having a bad dream when you cried out and woke me up. I wanted to investigate." The spirit answered as he cupped his small hand and dipped it into the freezing water before bringing it to the Wendigo's injury and letting the water drip onto the broken skin.

Hannibal hissed before pushing the spirit back into the river and jumping up on all fours, the icy pain in his leg causing him to lash out. A soft blue glow from underneath himself caused Hannibal to look down and see that the water had wrapped around his pastern and hoof like a cast and began to heal his torn flesh. As the water slowly dripped off of him, Hannibal felt the soreness leave his leg and saw the blue glow begin to dim, a sign that the magic had done it's job. After the glow completely disappeared, Hannibal glanced down at the spirit who was swimming his way back to the edge of the river. What would his mother say if she saw that her son lashed out at a fellow magical creature who was just trying to help?

She would say he was rude.

With a hot wash of shame deep in his belly, Hannibal got down on his knees and held out his hand to offer help to the small spirit. The spirit regarded his hand warily, cautious of the sharp talons.

"If you think I would hurt you, why help me in the first place?" Hannibal questioned, refusing to think about why the idea of this spirit not trusting him left a pang of hurt in his chest.

"You were the one who pushed me into the river," The spirit retorted as he carefully took the young Wendigo's hand, "And my father says my first instinct to anything injured should be to want to help it."

"I do apologize for pushing you, it was rather rude." Hannibal said as he pulled the spirit up on the river's edge and sat in the snow next to him, "And my father says anything injured is weak, and should be put out of it's misery."

The spirit frowned, "That's cruel. You were injured, would your father want you put out of your misery?"

Hannibal tilted his head as he looked at the spirit, "I'd wager that he wouldn't."

The Wendigo and spirit regarded each other for a moment before the spirit said, "My name is Will. What's yours?"

"Hannibal." The Wendigo answered.

"I've never met anyone around here with a name like that. It's just as weird as your accent." Will said as he absentmindedly played with a stone he found covered with snow.

"I think it's good to be weird." Hannibal said as he watched Will. If this was anyone else, Hannibal would have mauled them for being so rude. But something about this little spirit intrigued him.

"I never said being weird was a bad thing. Others call me weird all the time." Hannibal noticed a twinge of sadness in Will's eyes as he said this.

Suddenly Mischa's voice rang out, "Hannibal! Brother, where are you?"

Quickly followed by his mother's voice, "Hannibal, answer us!"

Hannibal saw his mother and sister coming around the bend. With a happy smile Hannibal turned to introduce Will, only to find the young spirit gone and the hole he made in the river covered with a fresh patch of ice. Hannibal's eyes never strayed from the river as he felt his mother's talons gently cradle his face and ask if anything was wrong. As his mother picked him up and began the long trek back to their mountain home, Hannibal could swear he saw a pair of crystal blue eyes looking at him from underneath the ice.


	2. Let There Be Light...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost a year after meeting, the young Wendigos and water spirit celebrate a special day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... This is awkward..
> 
> Long story short, 2017 was an awful year and I had to ignore this story in order to handle real life stuff. But I found my outline for it sitting innocently in my writing folder and decided to pick it back up! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who bookmarked this and those who have left kudos, I hope this chapter makes up for the amount of time I had to be away!

The urge to sneeze was unbearable.

Hannibal just knew if it wasn't for Mischa covering his maw with her taloned hand, he would have blown their cover five minutes ago. With a nod to let Mischa know he was fine, she and Hannibal burrowed deeper into the tangled net of spotted jewelweed while trying their best not to call attention to themselves.

"Where is he? Wasn't he supposed to be here by now?" Mischa asked in a whisper, a whiny sound creeping into her voice.

"Will said the only way he could spend the night with us is if he helped his father set up for the Samhain party. He may still be busy." Hannibal whispered back, peeking through the jewelweed to see if he could catch a glance of their little friend among the adult water spirits.

"But I'm tired of waiting," Mischa complained, "Let's go get him ourselves."

Hannibal quickly grabbed his sister by her skeletal arm and pulled her back down into their hiding place, "No, you know why we can't do that. Be pa- pa- aaah..."

Before Mischa could get her hand around Hannibal's maw, he let out a loud sneeze.

The water spirits who had been setting up wooden tables stopped talking as the noise caused birds to flutter from their perch on the surrounding trees. Hannibal and Mischa lowered their heads and held their breath as a tall female water spirit cautiously made her way to the water’s edge, looking around the patch of jewelweed to see what had made such a sound. Hannibal gripped Mischa's hand, their signal to tell the other to run, and prepared to make a quick escape if the spirit got any closer. Just as her hand reached down to part the plants, the shrieking laughter of young water spirits broke the serene quiet of the forest and caused Hannibal and Mischa to give a sigh of relief as the lady spirit made her way back to her kin.

Mischa was the first to peek out from behind their hiding place and smiled as she saw their friend, "Look Hannibal! He's here."

Hannibal glanced up in time to see Will come running down the bend into the river's clearing, another young spirit right behind him. Hannibal couldn't help the sneer that spread across his maw as he saw that the other child was Alana. According to Will she was one of five other young water spirits who considered Will a friend, the rest teased him while the adults just ignored everything. As Will and Alana continued to chase each other around, the rest of Will's friends joined in. Three young girls who Hannibal only knew as Molly, Margot, and Beverly as well as a little boy named Jimmy started a game of tag with Will and Alana; however, Will wasn't paying attention and Molly picked him as 'it'.

Hannibal growled as the young spirits started their game.

It wasn't that Hannibal begrudged Will of having friends other than Mischa and himself, he just hated that they got to spend more time with Will. It wasn't fair that they got to play tag while Hannibal and Mischa had to hide in a patch of wildflowers because their presence made the skittish water spirits nervous. Mischa's sad sigh gave Hannibal confirmation that she was thinking the same thing.

Just as Mischa and Hannibal were ready to give up waiting, they spotted Will's father making his way down to the clearing, his arms seemed overflowed with things for the party. Will also caught sight of his father and quickly stopped the game of tag before going to see him. Hannibal watched as Will's father placed his things down on one of the tables and picked Will up instead, barely making out that Will's father was asking him if he had finished laying out the candles around the forest. Will nodded his head enthusiastically before his father smiled, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and set him back down on the ground. Will's father leaned in to whisper something to Will before handing him a swath of black fabric that seemed to be made of silk along with a small box. Will then scampered away for a moment, leaving his father smiling after him before picking up a decanter and walking towards the river to collect drinking water with the other adult spirits.

As Will's father passed Hannibal and Mischa's patch of spotted jewelweed, he casually leaned down as if to pick a flower and whispered, "He will be just a moment, meet him at the tower."

The ‘tower’ was Hannibal and Mischa’s favorite place in the forest, it was nothing more than a giant boulder nestled in the middle of a particularly thick patch of trees; but it was their quiet place and they took joy in having Will there.

When Will’s father didn’t move right away, the little Wendigos peeked out from under the jewelweed and watched as Will's father stood in front of the plants, purposely blocking the sight of them from the other spirits and giving them time to scurry away from the clearing.

 

*****

 

Hannibal was sitting atop the tower with Mischa draped against his back when he noticed the black thing that Will's father had handed to him was a tunic, as Will approached the tower wearing it instead of the white one he had been wearing while playing tag. When Will got closer, Mischa hopped off Hannibal's back and ran down to greet Will with a hug.

“We thought that you forgot about us!” Mischa said with a slight pout as she pulled away from Will.

“Never! You’re my best friends,” Will says before taking Mischa’s hand, careful of her talons, and looking up at Hannibal with a beaming smile, “Come on! I just have to do one more thing before we go home.”

Hannibal hid his ecstatic smile at the way Will said ‘ _home_ ’ instead of ‘ _your home_ ’ by turning around and scurrying backwards down the tower, schooling his features before jumping off once he was closer to the ground. “I thought you did everything in preparation for the festival already. Isn’t that why your father let you leave?”

“I did everything but light the candles because it was too early,” Will gave a pointed look to the sky as the entire forest was slowly being enveloped in the orange-pink hue of sunset, “Now that nighttime is coming, I need to light them to help the souls of the dead find the pathway through the forest.”

Hannibal watched as Will let go of Mischa’s hand and opened the small medicine pouch tied to his hip before pulling out the small box that his father gave him. Giving the box a small shake and rattling the contents inside, Will gave Hannibal and Mischa a smile before walking towards the tower and pulling out a match, striking it against the side of the box and lighting a white candle that Will placed at the base of the tower earlier that day.

Mischa let out a gasp and scurried towards Will on all four before sitting up on her hind legs and staring at Will’s small box in awe, “I didn’t know water spirits could make fire!”

Will giggled before handing the small box to Mischa for her to inspect, “We can’t. But humans have made a way to light candles without holding them over an open fire. They’re called matches!”

“The humans made those? How did you get them?” Hannibal asked in a mix of awe and concern as he sat next to Mischa and sniffed the box of matches curiously.

“A satyr from the southern part of the forest was out gathering berries when he found a human camping.” Will started as he took the box from Mischa and headed deeper into the forest, “He said that a box like the one I have fell out of the human’s pocket. He followed the human all the way to the edge of the forest before the satyr got too scared to keep going.” Will paused as he came across another candle down the path and bent to light it.

“So, the satyr gave you the matches?” Mischa inquired as she tilted her head and watched Will strike the match.

“No, he asked a tree nymph who lives at the edge of the forest if she knew what they were; and when she told him that the humans traded gold for them, he asked her if she would disguise herself as a human and get some to share with the rest of us.” Will explained as they continued down the path, picking up their pace so that all the candles could be lit before nightfall.

“Humans are very clever!” Mischa exclaimed with a smile as her grey eyes kept a close watch on the small flame as Will lit another match.

“Humans are devious,” Hannibal said as he carefully rubbed his talons against the light scars on his rear leg, “There is a big difference.”

Will stared at the spot Hannibal continued to rub before turning to Mischa, “Would you like to try to light a candle?”

Mischa enthusiastically agreed and ran down the path towards the next candle, leaving her brother and Will alone.

“Why do you hate humans so much?” Will asked as they slowly followed behind Mischa.

Hannibal gave a pointed look to his own leg before scurrying ahead “Why _wouldn’t_ I is more apt a question.”

“But if it wasn’t for humans, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Hannibal stopped at the sound of Will’s small voice, turning slowly before catching Will’s crystalline eyes. Hannibal slowly crawled back to Will and sat beside him, noting with some satisfaction that even sitting he was taller than his small friend.

“Do you wish we didn’t meet?” Will’s voice got impossibly smaller.

Hannibal leaned forward and nuzzled his maw against Will’s cheek, the base of his antlers tugging at Will’s curls lightly, “I’m forever glad that we met, Will. You are my best friend. I just despise the circumstance under which we met. Humans are selfish and rude, pushing themselves onto our land without asking and needlessly hurting our fellow creatures. As far as I’m concerned, the only thing humans have every done right was give me the chance to meet you.”

Hannibal continued to nuzzle into Will’s cheek until the spirit giggled from the ticklish feeling and wrapped his arms in a hug around Hannibal’s bony shoulders. Hannibal pulled back to look at Will’s face, not wanting to miss the bright smile that always made him feel the same sense of joy that Mischa’s smile made him feel.

Although, if Hannibal’s obsidian skin was capable of blushing, he was sure Will’s smile would make him do so.

Will opened his mouth to say something, but Mischa’s sharp voice rang from deep within the woods, “Hannibal! Will! Hurry, it’s almost dark!”

 

*****

 

Mischa was so excited to use the matches that she managed to light every candle that Will had laid out while Hannibal and Will lagged behind to talk; however, the sun was quickly setting, and Hannibal knew that they must start their trek up the mountain to the Wendigo caves before they were caught at ground level with the wondering souls.

Mischa and Will clambered their way clumsily up the face of the mountain, nearly sending Hannibal into a severe panic when they would stumble, only to have him rushing to catch them. By the time the rambunctious younger spirits made it to the top, Hannibal collapsed in an exhausted heap in front of the cave entrance to his and Mischa’s home. Hannibal smiled fondly as Will and Mischa continued to chase each other around before finally wearing themselves out and sitting on either side of Hannibal. As the three of them finally settled in the sun had completely set, the pitch black of the Wendigos’ skin blending in and leaving Will with only the ethereal silver glow of Hannibal and Mischa’s eyes to let him know they were still there with him. Slowly, the forest began to quiet down, the crickets hum receding into an almost deafening silence as the world seemed to prepare itself for the onslaught of the dead.

From their overhead view from the mountain, the children saw the forest floor begin to glow, a soft light that was quickly growing to be blindingly white. Mischa’s talons clicked noisily against Hannibal’s as she gripped his hand and whispered, “It’s starting!”

The trio watched in silent amazement as the light tapered off from one entity to hundreds of thousands, the shapes forming into woodland creatures such as rabbits and deer, as well nymphs and satyrs and faeries. Among the mass of souls who had risen from the Underworld, humans could be seen. Some were very old, while others seemed far too young to already have departed this world. The souls started to move, following the path of lit candles that stretched from one end of the forest to the other, slowly finding their way out of the seemingly never-ending maze of trees.

Hannibal, Mischa, and Will were so enraptured by watching the spirits find their way that they didn’t notice the steady clicking of hundreds of cloven hooves on stone until Hannibal’s father rumbled in a deep voice “You’ve done wonderfully this year, Will.”

The children jumped slightly before turning to see that the other Wendigos that inhabited the mountain started to make their way out of their caves to watch the spirits. Mischa quickly scurried to her father before raising her bony arms up to him for a hug, which he gave and then lifted her up to sit on his shoulders; letting her use his massive antlers for balance. Will swallowed nervously as he thought about the day that Hannibal might have been just as big and intimidating, “Thank you, sir. My father let me do it all on my own!”

Hannibal smiled as his mother’s sweet voice greeted Will and an obsidian hand rested against Will’s curls before she bent down to give Hannibal a kiss. Hannibal felt his heart lift as he thought about how accepting his parents had been of his and Mischa’s friendship with the little water spirit. It had only been a year, but Will was practically one of their own. Hannibal’s happiness was dampened as he remembered that the acceptance didn’t really go both ways. While Will’s father had no problem - and was quite proud - that Will had made friends with other creatures, the rest of Will’s kind wasn’t so welcoming. On good days, Hannibal and Mischa would be ignored by the water spirits; and on bad days they would be tersely escorted away from the river. Hannibal knew that the water spirits were just weary of all creatures that visited their source of power, but it was hard to stay away when Hannibal would see the other young spirits taunt and jeer at Will for a difference in him that they couldn’t name; leaving the few friends he did have amongst his own kind incapable of doing much to defend him. Unlike Hannibal could.

The young Wendigo was contemplating about when he got as protective over Will as he did Mischa when a familiar voice reached his ears, “Hello, Hannibal.”

“Bedelia,” Hannibal turned his gaze from Will and his parents to greet the small female Wendigo that was about his age, “Enjoying tonight’s event?”

“As much as I can.” Bedelia sighed as she sat next to Hannibal on her haunches.

“You don’t find it enchanting?” Hannibal asked, missing the curious look his fellow Wendigo gave him as his gaze strayed back to Will.

Will must have felt Hannibal’s gaze upon him, for he turned away from speaking with Hannibal’s parents and searched the mountain ledge until his own eyes landed on the young Wendigo. A soft laugh and a gentle nudge of a skeletal hand from Hannibal’s mother was enough permission for Will to leave the older Wendigos and Mischa so he could continue enjoying the night with his friend. Bedelia couldn’t help rolling her eyes as the water spirit sheepishly made his way towards them.

“Evening, Bedelia.” Will greeted softly as he sat back down on the opposite side of Hannibal.

“Will,” Bedelia nodded her head in acknowledgment, “How are you?” While she didn’t particularly care about Will’s well-being, Hannibal seemed to enjoy this little thing’s company; so perhaps he wasn’t all bad.

As Bedelia and Will exchanged pleasantries the mass of souls only seemed to swell in number, nearly drowning out the flickering flames of the candles with their own otherworldly glow.

“I wonder if any of them know they are dead. Or do they just move out of instinct?” Hannibal mused aloud.

“Maybe it’s better if they don’t know,” Will answered with a slight shiver in his voice, the night had turned cold. “It makes it easier for them to return to the Underworld afterwards.”

“Even if they don’t know what they are doing, should we really treat their one night of freedom a year like a spectacle to watch?” Bedelia huffed.

“Freedom would mean that they were capable of doing whatever they want,” Hannibal retorted as he wrapped a pitch-black arm around Will, knowing his thin frame wouldn’t offer much warmth; but offering it all the same, “Tonight doesn’t even seem important to them.”

The three spirits continued to quip and jibe each other as the souls made their way to the end of the forest, the blinding light receding as each soul passed the barrier of trees separating the forest from the rest of the world. Hannibal sighed softly as the sounds of the woods picked up in earnest; the frogs and crickets and other nightly beings starting up their songs once more. The young Wendigo was certain that he could sit there for eternity and enjoy the feel of the night, of being surrounded by friends, and of just being _alive_.

If it wasn’t for Mischa’s terrified scream echoing across the land, he might very well have.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna say hi? Visit me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/catatonicemotions)


	3. The Sins of The Father...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many Samhains have passed since Mischa's death, which Hannibal and Will have spent looking for her soul. However, this Samhain is overshadowed by the growing threat of humans encroaching on their land; leading to the creation of a new law in hopes of preserving the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to give credit to Mads Mikkelsen and his portrayal of Hannibal at the end of Mizumono. The absolutely raw emotion he gave to Hannibal was a big inspiration in how far I could push the version of Hannibal in this story.

Will wrapped his arms around himself and cursed the thin fabric of his tunic for the fifth time as another bone chilling wind swept the forest floor. He wanted nothing more than to turn around and head home to the river, seeking the warmth that seemed to radiate from the water even during the cooling months of autumn. If it were any other night, perhaps he would have. Will let out another curse, softer this time, and directed at the universe in general. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration of the balance between life and death, and yet it left nothing but a sting in the depths of his heart.

He was sure Hannibal felt worse.

Many Samhain celebrations had passed since Mischa’s death. Hannibal and Will had continued to grow, and while they now had many centuries of age upon them, they still couldn’t help feeling like children as they spent year after year watching the mass of souls for a glimpse of Mischa’s face. They had yet to be successful, but Hannibal was adamant that they always try again. As much as it pained Will to sit idly by, he didn’t have the heart to let Hannibal wait alone.

For centuries after Mischa’s passing, Will and Hannibal had sat upon the tower, in hopes of having a better vantage point to see her amongst the souls, and tried their best to remember exactly what happened that night. Will had just turned three hundred and twelve when Hannibal’s father told them what had led Mischa to stray from her pack of fellow Wendigos. She had seen something shining in the far east, bright enough to be seen over the expanse of trees and up high on the mountain. Mischa, ever the one to offer help, had thought it was souls who hadn’t found their way to the path of candles, and she had asked her father if she could lead them back onto the path.

Hannibal’s father seemed to have the life drain out of him as he admitted to telling her yes.

What she stumbled upon was a village at the eastern edge of the woods. It was believed by the spirits and creatures who inhabited the woods that villages of humans existed in all four directions, and while she had always heard stories of them, Mischa had never seen one herself.

Will couldn’t help the shiver that racked his body as he remembered the horrific sound of Mischa’s scream.

Hannibal’s father had reached the village first, leaving Hannibal’s mother in a confused panic as he darted off in the direction that Mischa had gone. Hannibal and Will had followed, but Hannibal’s father said he was forever grateful that they didn’t make it to the village when he did; just in time to see the local priest exorcise his daughter’s soul to the Underworld. The roar that Hannibal’s father had let out was loud enough to shake the forest floor, only scaring the humans because they couldn’t feel the heartbreak and anguish in such a sound. However, the humans’ fear had given Hannibal’s father enough time to escape the village and gather Will and Hannibal in his arms, making it back to the mountain before the humans could have hurt any of them as well.

The tragic news had caused Hannibal’s mother to become bed-ridden, hiding in the depth of their cave and never leaving the nest, not even for food. With the loss of his daughter and worriment for his mate, Hannibal’s father had accidentally forgotten to take care of his son, leaving Hannibal to deal with his grief on his own. He had followed Will like a shadow then, no matter where he went or what he did, Hannibal was there. Sometimes Will would invite Hannibal to play with him, Beverly, Alana, Margot, Molly, and Jimmy. Other times Will would sit with him at the river’s edge and hold him as he screamed and cried.

Hannibal’s presence began taking a toll on the river.

Will understood his pain, empathizing completely and feeling the same hopelessness. When the surrounding plants began to die, and the river water turned murky from his negative energy, Will ignored it in favor of comforting his friend. Unfortunately, not every water spirit was as understanding as he was.

A water spirit by the name of Matthew began taunting Hannibal, calling him weak and asking him how something so emotional could ever be related to the strongest creatures in the forest. Matthew’s words left him with a broken nose and four long gashes down his neck before Will could try to calm the Wendigo, but Will wasn’t enough. Hannibal had bent down on all fours and with a hellish howl erupting from his maw, he made the murky river turn as obsidian as his skin. It had been later that evening, after the elder water spirits had requested the king of the forest, an elf named Jack, to send his guards to collect the little Wendigo and ban him to the mountain, that Will’s father explained to him Hannibal’s distress and anger caused the river to fill with blood and made the other water spirits sick.

Will didn’t see Hannibal much after that, but he could always hear whimpering cries echoing from the top of the mountain.

After Jack had banned Hannibal, the Wendigos decided to barter for drinking water and fresh fish with the spirits who owned the southern tip of the river out of spite; effectively keeping Will from even being able to sneak away and see his friend. It wasn’t until the following Samhain that Will’s father told him there was a surprise for him at the tower. Will had almost fainted when he saw Hannibal crouched on top of the large boulder. That night was the first of many, the only night a year when souls could roam the earth had become the only night of the year when they could be of some comfort to each other.

Will was brought back from his thoughts by a rustling in the bushes behind him.

“You’ve already lit the candles?”

Will turned to face Hannibal, “My father did it this year. He wanted me to get a head start into the woods so that the others didn’t become suspicious if I ran off later.”

A sad smile twisted Hannibal’s maw and exposed his sharp teeth, “I miss your father terribly,” Hannibal admitted as he scaled the boulder and perched delicately on his haunches, “Please give him my thanks for the help he so graciously gives us.”

“I do every year,” Will stated as he looked up at Hannibal with a small smile of his own, “And he misses you too. Says the river isn’t as exciting without you around to scare the trout.”

Hannibal threw his head back as he laughed, a sound that Will had found himself missing over the past two centuries.

The Wendigo then extended his hand to help Will climb the side of the boulder, briefly giving Will a sense of de ja vu as he thought about Hannibal pulling him from the river the day they met. Once settled on the boulder, the two spirits noticed the sounds of the forest were slowly quieting; even the wind had stilled, much to Will’s relief. Then the soil started to glow.

At first it only seemed like the ground was casted in a beam of moonlight, until it became so bright that Will and Hannibal had to cover their eyes. The light dimmed enough for them to lower their hands, both blinking for a moment before their eyes settled and could then make out the shapes of the dead.

“Here’s to a blessed Samhain.” Hannibal mumbled with a pained look.

He had said that every year, and Will had always responded by placing a gentle hand to the sharp blade of Hannibal’s shoulder. This year was no different.

Hannibal and Will didn’t speak as the procession of souls made their way through the forest, too busy searching the numerous faces for the only one that mattered. They saw forest creatures and fellow spirits, even a few humans who they recognized from years past, but Mischa’s face never seemed to surface from within the crowd. The last soul passed the tower and continued towards the edge of the woods, leaving the area in a thick darkness and prompting the Wendigo and water spirit to let their eyes adjust to the absence of light. Will could hear shuddering breaths beside him before Hannibal growled and slid off the boulder to go angrily scratch at a nearby tree.

“She could have risen further west.” Will said as he carefully made his way to the ground.

Hannibal snorted indignantly, “No, she wouldn’t have. She would have risen here. I’m sure of it.”

“You don’t really know that. The opening from the Underworld shifts every year, Hannibal. Maybe she-“

“Don’t!” Hannibal snarled, turning towards Will and lowering his antlers threateningly.

Will slowly placed the palm of his hand against the rough bone of one of Hannibal’s massive antlers, empathizing enough with Hannibal to know that there was no real danger behind his defensive stance. The Wendigo’s maw relaxed as his bony shoulders slouched before his entire body heaved with the force of a sigh.

“I suppose after two hundred years you have grown weary of my apologies.”

Will smirked before resting his head against Hannibal’s chest and giving him a hug, “Perhaps just slightly annoyed.”

Hannibal’s talons tugged slightly at Will’s tunic as he returned the hug, a deep vibration erupting from his chest as he laughed. “Annoyed as you may be, I still apologize. That was rude.”

Will pulled back enough to meet Hannibal’s silver eyes, a small smile playing about his mouth. “I forgive you.”

The wind had picked up once again, causing Will to shiver slightly in Hannibal’s hold. “It is a long way back to the river, allow me to escort you there?”

With a nod from Will, they made their way down the path towards Will’s home.

 

****

 

They walked in silence for a moment before Will broke it first, “Next Samhain, we should stay at the base of the mountain. You know that’s where she loved to pick flowers for those crowns she always made us, and it’s close to her home. If she doesn’t rise at the tower, what’s to say she doesn’t rise there?”

Hannibal sighed, “While you might be correct, what if there isn’t a ‘ _next Samhain_ ’ for us to look for her?”

“Why wouldn’t there be?”

“Won’t you be busy with your new wife?” Hannibal didn’t mask the sheer jealousy in his voice.

Will groaned as he realized that his plan to get through tonight without having _that_ conversation had been foiled.

“That isn’t fair, Hannibal. I won’t be the only one getting married. Tell me, is Bedelia already fighting others for your attention?”

“What Bedelia does is none of my concern.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Even if she is, it doesn’t matter. I refuse to be married on someone else’s orders.” Hannibal snapped.

Will couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped him, “You’re going to defy the king of the forest? That could get you killed!”

“Jack’s jurisdiction ends with the forest alone. The inhabitants of the mountain aren’t under his rule.”

“And yet the other Wendigos are still going to participate because they know doing so helps the rest of us!”

“Oh please,” Hannibal came to a stop and turned on Will, “You aren’t naïve like Jack or the rest of those on his court. You know an arranged marriage law can’t save this place.”

“Then what do you propose we do?”

Hannibal went silent, but the deadly flash in his silver eyes was answer enough for Will, and it made him take a step away from his friend.

“No.”

“Give me a reason why.”

“ _No_.”

Hannibal advanced on Will, the water spirit unable to move out of fear. It was the first time he had ever been afraid of Hannibal. “The members of the forest are still strong enough to overtake the humans. They are so feeble, Will. Don’t you realize how easy it could be to stop them? Without those machines that rip our land apart, without those structures that billow noxious smoke into our air they are powerless. There is still enough ancient magic here that we can be rid of them without even getting our hands bloody. Turn the pack against each other and we have already won. They will destroy themselves.”

The rage that poured from Hannibal was strong enough to make Will tremble. The longer he considered what Hannibal was saying, the more outraged he became. It was when he found himself questioning the value of human life that he shook his head to clear it of Hannibal’s violent thoughts.

“You’re right. They were vicious in taking what they needed. We could easily gather fellow creatures just as angry as you to fight back. We could deliver justice for the pain they forced on us.”

“Will...” Hannibal purred.

Will chose not to see how happy the Wendigo looked, “Only if you let me know your one true concern is the well-being of the forest. Tell me this isn’t about Mischa.”

Hannibal started to growl. For a moment Will thought that Hannibal would strike him, but the intimidating form in front of him went rigid, “Tell me, Will. Could you be happy in knowing your marriage was for nothing more than convenience? That the children you sire were only to increase the numbers of a population that is slowly losing its home?”

“I never said this made me happy. But I’m not going to rebuild my home on the blood of other creatures. That’s something only humans do. _We_ learn to adapt.”

“Adaptation is nothing without change. Do you think you could change, Will?”

Hannibal then bent onto all fours and scurried away into the darkened wood, purposely leaving Will to allow the question to roll around in his mind. The water spirit let out a disheartened sigh and turned to continue to the river, surprised when he turned to see that he and Hannibal had stopped just short of the river’s clearing. He then became mortified as he realized Alana, Margot, Beverly, Molly and Jimmy had all been waiting for his return and witnessed his entire exchange with Hannibal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've got a fic prompt or just wanna say hi, come on over to my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/catatonicemotions)!


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